


Helpless to Help

by bluejorts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, and VERY BIG WINGS, gabe does not have a Fun Time, gabe has mANY HALOS, halos, misuse of grace in a non-sexual manner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/pseuds/bluejorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel wasn't dead. Sam wasn't willing to give up. Amara was unstoppable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helpless to Help

Gabriel wasn’t dead. He was just a really good faker (ask any of his past lovers of his female form).

As if Lucifer was the first person to successfully kill him,  _ please _ , he’d pissed off way too many people and Gods for that to be his cherry popping.

Gabriel always had a backup plan, he was a coward, a fake. He was, by all meanings of the word; a trickster. Gabriel was too much afraid of dying, to tell the truth. He didn’t know where angels went when they died - hell, he didn’t know if he’d get in. He didn’t know if he was an angel or a God or something in between, and he didn’t know if he’d fit into the dying place of one or the other. He really did not fancy being a ghost.

His backup plan was pretty flamboyant, but so was he. 

Gabriel, as an archangel, had a hundred halos. Like Saturn’s rings, they weren’t really rings, they were more light and matter than anything tangible. When they were visible, which wasn’t often (mostly because he actually wanted to blend in with humans and humans don’t usually have halos, let alone a hundred of them), they spanned miles, each one wider and slightly dimmer than the last. They span around his body and moved from his head to his feet with no real pattern, disorganised and unpredictable, just like their owner.

Whenever someone tried to kill him, he brought one of his halos into himself, concentrated all of it’s energy onto the wound. It didn’t cut through his grace, only the grace of his halo. But when he did that, the halo wasn’t much of anything any more, the weapon having basically absorbed it. 

Lucifer was the ninety seventh person to kill him. Yeah, exactly, he pissed off a lot of people. This meant that he had three halos left, the smallest of which was about the size of a ring, the largest just bigger than a dinner plate. Gabriel didn’t fancy losing any of the three (though it was unlikely that he would, given that he’d only lost the ninety seven in literally the entirety of existence) so he went into hiding. Went even deeper than his previous witness protection. He became a human, or at least posed as one. Didn’t do so much in the ways of magic as to make sure a rapist or paedophile didn’t look before they crossed the road. He travelled the world, made himself a fake credit card and probably ruined the economy of several countries. He visited every country there was and took time to properly admire what he’d helped to save. He spent weeks alone in the Amazon, and in the Serengeti, around the animals, around the wildlife. He spent a month in New York, taking in the bustle of the city. You name it, he went there. 

And then, of course, he was needed. Or rather, he was wanted. 

Because some fucking idiots by the name of Sam and Dean Winchester had let his Dad’s sister out of her cage and she wasn’t doing just fine. Gabriel was out in the outback in Australia, at this point, making peace with all the lethal (to humans) animals. The only way he knew what was going on was through Sam. Sam had started praying to him, something he hadn’t done in a long time.

When Sam was a kid, Gabriel had been his favourite angel. Gabriel knew this because the boy’s prayers had been long and rambling, more stories with the odd plea thrown in. He’d always enjoyed listening, he even purposefully lengthened John’s hunting time so Sam would get to stay at a school he particularly liked. Hell, he’d cared about him. But Sam had stopped praying to him long ago, even before Lucifer ‘killed’ him. So it came as a real surprise to him when he heard the faintest whisper of his name in Sam’s voice on his radar. 

He cranked up the volume, and listened. 

_ Gabriel. It’s Sam. I - I don’t know if you’re gonna hear me, I don’t know if it’s possible, since you’re, well, dead.  _

_ But... _

_ Okay, honestly, I’m really hoping that there’s the slightest chance that you’re alive somewhere, living it large. I’ve been hoping that for the past however many years. But if you are, I’d really appreciate if you stopped now, came back. I need your help. I really don’t know who else to turn to at this point. It looks like my only other option is Lucifer. Amara, she’s... She’s really, really strong. But I mean, you probably already know that. Dean and I, we can’t beat her alone, we need at least one archangel, and I’m hoping you’ll be that one? _

_ Okay, I’m gonna go. I don’t know if you heard me at all, but I think I’m gonna - I think I’m gonna keep talking to you. Amen, or whatever. _

Gabriel sighed. He snapped himself to Kansas and watched the Winchesters from afar. They looked tired, the both of them. Sam’s hair was a lot longer than it had been. Now if this had been a better time, Gabriel would have really loved to plait that hair. He was still taller than a goddamn Christmas tree, and built like a mountain. He was still the same Sam.

Gabriel snapped himself away and slept in the penthouse suite of the nearest five star hotel because he could, and because even when travelling the world he used his luxuries as a security blanket. 

_ Hey, Gabriel.  _

_ It’s Sam again. We really do need you. Amara’s fucked with Dean, I don’t even know how. He just - he looks lost, sometimes, alone. I’m scared, Gabriel. I’m really scared, Jesus Christ.  _

_ I can’t talk about this to anyone, it’s driving me insane. Everyone I could talk to is dead. Everyone I cared about is dead and gone and Dean’s being - being manipulated somehow. I don’t know what’s going on but I just -  _

_ I miss you.  _

_ Bye. _

Gabriel winced and curled up on his side in the silk sheets. He wanted to help, he really did. But he didn’t want to end up dying for real. He couldn’t do that to Sam, even if it meant doing this. He winced again when he realised how stupid he was being, how selfish. Like Sam would even care if he died again. He buried himself in the covers and stayed there for days.

_ Gabriel, hey. We went on a hunt today. A normal hunt, nothing to do with Amara, she didn’t even manage to sneak into it once. Is it fucked up that I’d missed that? Yeah, probably, I know. Anyway, yeah. We still need help, so if there’s the slightest chance that you’re not dead it would be a really great time to come help us.  _

_ Yeah, sorry. I still believe in you.  _

_ Bye. _

Gabriel hadn’t found anything. It was beginning to get really, really annoying. He asked the remaining Gods - the ones that would actually talk to him - about Amara, but nobody knew Jack shit. He couldn’t kill her alone, last time it had taken the four archangels and a legion of lesser angels just to get her back in her cage. He wanted to help, fuck did he want to help, but he just - he couldn’t. He still watched the Winchesters from afar, left them the occasional clue to do with the hunt they were on. When he first heard Lucifer’s name in Sam’s head he knew he was in trouble. He had to do something or it would be like, Red is the New Plaid. Lucifer didn’t care about Amara, he was more interested in making the world his fucking oyster while everyone else drowned.

_ Hi, Gabriel.  _

_ Have I told you about my dreams? I don’t think I have, I mean it’s hard to remember, it’s been months. Well, I, uh, I think your dad wants me to go down to the cage. I keep seeing it, I keep seeing the cage. I think he wants me to get Lucifer, so that he’ll help. That way we’ll actually have an archangel on our side.  _

_ That came out more bitter than I was aiming for. Sorry, I didn’t - I’m just frustrated. I just wish we had a chance, that we weren’t just grasping at the tail end of nothing. If you’re there, Gabe, now would be a real good time to show yourself. Bye. _

Gabriel whined in frustration and threw a glass at the wall. Then another. Then another. Anything breakable bar his heart, which was already broken, was thrown until there were holes in the drywall and a heap of glass and pottery on the ground. Then he started to throw that. He screamed and scraped glass from the carpet, throwing it at the very same wall until it was smeared with his blood and he had no voice left. It just wasn't fair. He wanted to help. He really fucking did, but he was terrified of just becoming another pawn. 

He was terrified that he would turn up like this, with nothing to offer except his condolences. He was terrified of letting them down. Of letting Sam down.

When he was first created Gabriel was the fastest of the angels. He was the messenger after all. His wings were - are - thousands of miles wide, rose-gold and magnificent, like a forest fire with the same hot white underneath. All three sets moving together. His feathers shimmered and cut through the air with silent grace. His halos, being as they were not affected by anything earthly, continued to spin haphazardly around his body, tilting out of the way of his wings. Humans might have mistaken him for a shooting star, if he’d been flying slow enough to be seen. Flying was something he not only did because he had to but because he wanted to. It was a way of getting away from the utter listlessness of the other angels. He flew to get away from his problems, and in that sense he supposed he’d been flying ever since. But he hadn’t flown for real in years, thousands of them. 

He flew now. He flew around the globe, wings stirring the clouds into a hurricane somewhere over Russia, causing a tidal wave on the coast of Italy. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the havoc he was causing, nor the attention he was probably gaining from hunters. He flew in a split second from Kansas to Antarctica. That was sloppy, he blamed it on the years of disuse. In his prime he’d have been able to do it in half a second, maybe even less. Antarctica was cold, but Gabriel hardly noticed it. Where his wing tips dragged against the ground the snow melted and steamed, where he stepped it grew colder. His tears reached the ground as ice, the snow touched his hair and left it sodden.

He was throwing the world’s most dramatic temper tantrum and he  _ knew _ it. 

He fell to his knees and not a sound came from his open mouth. He glanced to his sides with tear filled eyes. Even his wings were fucked up. His feathers were everywhere, a complete mess, they were dull and bent in places, blackened from the fall. 

He stayed there for God knows how long, because the next thing he knew Sam was praying again. It was faint, too faint to just be from America. And it was just two words.

_ Gabriel. Help. _

And Gabriel flew again. He flew as fast as he fucking could until he reached the bunker.

_ Gabriel. _

Sam wasn’t there. He wasn’t inside, he wasn’t even around. Stupid fucking sigils putting him in a  _ bad _ mood. 

_ Please. _

Fuck. He had to do something. He  _ had _ to. He tried to lock onto Sam’s prayer. But it was too faint, too distant. There was something or someone blocking - 

Fuck. He knew that grace. He knew exactly where Sam was. 

He flew up. Up as high as he could without passing by a door to heaven. Then he tucked his wings tight into his body and let himself fall like a meteor. The ground seemed to come up to meet his face but he didn’t brace for impact, didn’t blink. He forced himself through the Earth realm and into hell. His vision was red, and it wasn’t just from the hellfire. He tore through the levels, searching. 

_ Gabe. _

There. Right fucking there. He growled, swooped his way into the chamber holding the cage and the Winchesters; spreading his wings to stop himself abruptly sending wind buffeting towards the cage and forcing the people inside against the back bars. The cavern was thin but eternal, his wings met the walls either side and bent to continue along into the blackness.

“Gabriel.” It wasn’t a prayer this time. It was the real Sam Winchester. The man himself.

“That’s me.” Wow. Okay Gabriel, way to be underwhelming.

“Gabriel.” That wasn’t a prayer either. Nor was it Sam Winchester.

“Hello there, Luci. Cassie, what are you doing in there too? Is this an orgy I wasn’t invited to? Rude.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes and came to the bars of the cage, holding them, pressing his face almost through. There was a feral grin on his cheeks and suddenly his wings were visible. 

“We showing off now then Gabey?” He teased. “Gonna get out the measuring tape?”

Lucifer’s wings filled the cage at painful angles. If Gabriel’s were a mess, his were fucking Hiroshima at eight sixteen on August sixth nineteen forty five. They were the same light blue as Gabriel remembered, but they were singed and what Gabriel could only describe as broken. They didn’t glow like they used to, they were ashy and sick looking. His halos lay on the ground, immobile and twisted, miles of grace bent into the tiny space.

“Wow, bro, You might wanna go see someone about those.” Gabriel snickered. Inside, his stomach fell to his feet and his heart filled with glass and ice. He may have been an ass, but this was his brother, and it hurt, it hurt so much to see his wings like this. Lucifer’s wings had been the most beautiful Gabriel had ever seen. He was their dad’s pride and joy for a reason. They had always been preened and shone like silver, they radiated power. When the world was still young and the angels served almost no purpose, Gabriel would lie with his own wings hidden, on the soft feathers of his brother’s. They would stare at the sky and talk for hours about the new world and their place in it. Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Raphael. Fuck knows what they found to talk about, but they did. 

Sam, Dean and Castiel pushed their way through the mess and pressed against the bars. It was Sam that Gabriel’s gaze was drawn to. His eyes were filled with tears and he looked so fucking hopeful Gabriel almost wanted to run away again. Because as soon as he found out what Gabriel had to offer (nothing) he would be disappointed all over again. Sam's lips formed his name silently and his prayer reached him in a whisper.

_ Thank you Gabriel. _

“Well if you don't mind, I'll be taking my friends and leaving.” he snapped his fingers and the Winchesters and their angel were next to him. His grace screamed at the effort it took to get through the magic of the cage but he didn't let it show. A single feather fell from one of his smallest wings and landed softly at Castiel’s feet. He snapped again and they were on Earth, hopefully in America. Hopefully next to the Impala. Hopefully. There was a small margin of error there. Only about as wide as the grand canyon. 

He was about to fly himself out, when Lucifer called his name. 

“Gabriel, please. Let me out of here. I don't deserve this. Michael doesn't deserve it.” Funny, he sounded almost desperate.

 

“Ha.” Gabriel deadpanned. “Good joke. See, thing is, last time you were out, you and Mickey Mouse were trying to make the whole Biblical prophecy thing a Real Experience™. I think you need some more time on the naughty step before Daddy reconsiders.” He flapped his wings, gently catapulting into the air. 

“Sam’ll come back. And when he does, I'll break him.”

“Sure you will.” Gabriel snorted condescendingly. “You’ll do what? Show him his biggest failures? That one time he didn't save Dean? Puh-lease. Kid’s seen Buffy. He thought Dean-o was in heaven, and you don't fucking rescue someone from heaven. Now if you don’t mind, I have some traumatised Winchesters to take care of. Toodles.”

He concentrated the rest of his energy on flying through back into the Earth realm, in the area that he’d dropped the Winchesters. They were about two miles from the Impala, close enough. He stood back from the others as they gained their bearings, almost shuffling his feet waiting for his chance to leave. To get the hell out of Dodge before the inevitable. 

Dean’s hands started to flutter around Cas’ face and Gabriel couldn't help but to roll his eyes at how fucking whipped they both were. He tried not to look at Sam, however this proved impossible when the giant strode up to him and caught him in a tight hug, lifting him onto his tiptoes.

“Thank you.” Sam muttered into his neck. Gabriel felt something well up in the corner of one eye. Oh fuck. Fuck no, he was not going to cry.

“No problem, kiddo.” He shrugged. His voice cracked halfway through. Okay. Maybe he was going to cry. Fuck.

Sam pulled away and stared at him with startled eyes. His hands cupped Gabriel’s shoulders gently, like he was scared of squeezing more tears from him. It was a bit late for that now. A choked sob escaped from Gabriel. His eyes betrayed him, tears spilled over and trailed down his cheeks. 

“Why are you crying?” Sam asked, worry filling his words and causing more tears. Fuck, kid shouldn't be worried about him.

“‘M just so gosh darn happy y'all are safe.” Gabriel chuckled, laughter catching in his throat. Sam squinted and glanced back at Dean and Cas, who were looking with concern at the broken archangel in front of them. 

“You guys go find the car, we'll catch up.” Sam told them. Cas opened his mouth to protest but Dean clapped a hand over it and dragged him off. He could've just used his mouth, put an end to all that sexual tension, but to each their own. 

Once the angel and his bum buddy were out of sight, Sam turned back to Gabriel, his hands trailing down Gabriel's arms and catching onto Gabriel's own. 

“What's the matter?” He asked gently. Gabriel couldn't bring himself to look him the eyes but he could feel them on him all the same; confused and frustrated. Buddy, was he gonna be even more frustrated when Gabriel told him the truth. “Gabriel?”

The words burst from His lips with more fury than he was aware he was capable of. “I can't help you.” He sobbed angrily, tearing his hands away and turning as much as he could without bowling Sam over with his folded wings. 

“What?” Sam asked, reaching for Gabriel’s shoulder. The minute Gabriel felt it he flinched away, he didn't deserve Sam to even acknowledge him, let alone touch him.

“I can't fucking help you! This is all I could do. I don't know how to beat Amara. I'm more fucking useless than - than - I don't fucking  _ know _ , that’s how useless I am.” 

His knees gave out and he fell to the ground. Sam needed to leave he needed to go Gabriel was useless he was broken he was wrong and Sam was - 

“I don't care.” Well Sam was talking, for one thing, interrupting his moment of self hatred. “Gabriel, I don't care. You helped us just now, didn't you? That's all that matters. Come back to the bunker with us, I could always use a second pair of eyes for research.” He sounded sincere. 

Gabriel looked up at him slowly, scared that this was some kind of sick joke. Sam was looking down at him with his mouth set in a sure line and honest, teary eyes. He held out a hand to help Gabriel to his feet. 

Gabriel took it and stumbled upright. He didn't even need to ‘accidentally' fall into Sam's arms for him to hug him. He tucked his head under the hunter’s chin and thought to himself that maybe he did deserve this. He was startled when he felt Sam press a gentle kiss into his hair and looked up at him with red cheeks that he couldn't control.

Sam winced. “Fuck, I'm s-” But Gabriel didn't let him finish. Fuck it. He did deserve this. Call him the most changable angel in the whole of heaven. He pressed his lips to Sam’s and believed that this was where he belonged. For a moment the human was stunned still, but then he was kissing back as if he felt the same way. 

Gabriel pulled away and stared into Sam’s smiling eyes. He wanted to keep him safe. He really really did.

Oh. Wait.

“Let go of me a sec kiddo.” He prompted. Sam did so slowly. “And for the love of Dad shut your eyes.”

Gabriel shut his eyes and focused the grace of his smallest halo. The one that was the size of a ring. He focused his energy like pressure on coal, forcing his grace into a physical shape. It was slightly painful, like cutting off a finger. Which, yes, he had done before. It took about a minute and he really hoped Sam hadn't tried to sneak a peek because if so he would never be peeking at anything ever again. 

“Okay, eyes open.” Gabriel instructed, opening his own. 

Sam's corpse was on the ground, eyes not much more than smoking sockets, whoops.

Okay, okay, that was a lie. Sam opened his left eye a crack and, deciding it was safe, opened both fully. Gabriel opened his hand, where his halo sat in the form of a ring the colour of lightning. It was iridescent and emitted a low glow that almost hurt to look at.

“What’s..?” Sam seemed at a loss for words. His hand hovered awkwardly at his side, like he wanted to reach out for it but wasn't sure whether he was allowed. 

“It’s for protection.” Gabriel explained. “Take it.” 

Sam took it. He slipped it onto the first finger of his right hand and admired it. As the two of them watched, the ring changed. It became a mix of pure white and black, with the white predominant, pushing against the darkness as it tried to spread.

“Woah. What's going on?” 

“It's reflecting your soul.” Gabriel murmured, transfixed. He knew Sam had a beautiful soul, but seeing it through his human eyes it was almost more beautiful. Sam dropped his hand and buried it in his pocket as if burned. As if he didn’t want to look at it. Gabriel was having none of that, he was nowhere near done objectifying Sam’s hand - or the rest of him for that matter, if the moose man wanted him to stop he’d have to put like, twenty six coats on. He grabbed his arm and tugged his hand into view again, Sam trying to pull it back, hand fisted. “No, no, I - okay, look. Your soul is beautiful and I want to keep looking at it, please.” He asked sheepishly. 

“What?” Sam gaped, brow furrowed. Okay, yeah, his request had been pretty weird, but not  _ that  _ weird, Winchester. 

“I want to keep looking at the ring.” He sighed, blushing slightly, unable to control it.

“Wh - you don’t think it’s ugly?” Sam asked, voice small, reluctantly letting Gabriel have his hand. 

“Your soul?” Gabriel asked incredulously, because what the fuck? Surely Sam was seeing what he was. “Kiddo, it’s fucking stunning. Are you not seeing what I’m seeing. It’s the brightest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, but…” Sam trailed off, gesturing at the dark spots. 

“That? Sam, that’s what’s most beautiful about it. Your soul is  _ fighting  _ the demon in it, it’s pushed it back and won’t let it go. It’s amazing.”

Sam didn’t even answer, just pulled Gabriel into his arms tightly. Gabriel chuckled, boy had this been a rollercoaster of a day. And by rollercoaster, he meant the damn Smiler. He didn’t know how to beat Amara, he didn’t know if it was even possible, but now he had Sam. Now he had Sam and he felt like anything was possible. 


End file.
